


Four And A Half Times

by intrepidem



Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Angst, Ashley is actually really cool but the narrative doesn't treat her well, Chris is smarter than he looks, Coming Out, Drunken Confessions, F/M, Fluff, Friendship Origins, Gay Josh, Homophobic Language, Internalized Homophobia, Josh is dumb and sad, Josh-centric, M/M, One-Sided Climbing Class, Pining, Pre-Canon, Seven Minutes In Heaven, Slurs, lesbian sam, rated for language, underaged drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-23
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2018-10-09 22:10:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10422885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intrepidem/pseuds/intrepidem
Summary: Josh Washington is impulsive. It's in his nature to make stupid choices and suffer the consequences therein. He can count only four spontaneous decisions he's made that have had any positive outcome whatsoever. Will these odds influence him to change his ways?No.Or: How Josh Washington Makes Friends - A Series of Dumb Decisions





	1. Closet

**Author's Note:**

> So I kinda wrote this because I wanted to present Climbing Class the way I've always thought It should be handled. I've also noticed a lot of ship wars and ship hate, and complaints about Sam's relationship to Josh being made insignificant and Climbing Class shippers shitting on Ashley. I wanted to fix some of those problems by doing my own take on the relationship, and explaining why some things are the way they are. 
> 
> I also thought it'd be cool to delve into the backgrounds of all these characters and how they became friends through Josh's influence. 
> 
> I hope you like it.
> 
> btw you can find me on tumblr [here](https://intrepidem.tumblr.com/)

  
For Josh, life was considered to be a series of thoughtless decisions. He could count on one hand the amount of times a decision he's made ended well. Four. It was four times, actually.

The first (1st) time was in third grade. He decided to fashion a paper airplane with his multiplication and division worksheet, all to grab the attention of the blonde kid that got moved to the desk next to his. He risked the shaky aerodynamics of his creation and the prospect of getting detention in favor of tossing the plane to his right. Thankfully, it hit the shoe of the blonde, and the kid looked down at what had touched him. Trap set. Blondie looked around to see who could have thrown it and locked eyes with Josh, who was trying to get him to throw it back. Blondie smiled, and picked up the plane giddily, carefully tossing it over to the boy who was taking an interest in him. All the sudden, a game was made. When it came back to the boy a few seconds later, the left wing came with a new inscription:

'i M j o s H'

Obligated to return the favor, he whipped out his pencil and made his own inscription. Then he tossed it back again, watching as it dove to the floor and underneath Josh's desk.

'm y n a m e i s C h r i s.' read the right wing.

And from that point on they were trading oreos for fruit roll ups at the lunch table for years to come.

The second (2nd) time was in eight grade. It was when Josh signed up for algebra tutoring on a whim. As funny as the 69 he had in Mr. Jaeger's class was, his parents didn't seem to see the humor in it like he did. Although, when he walked into room 209, he expected a much better turn out than he got. There was only Mr. Jaeger in the corner, who humphed in his direction when he entered, and two teacher's pets who volunteered to help him out today. Sitting front and center was Richard Glass, an annoying, pretentious know-it-all who was the president of the SCA and a member of NJHS. Josh was immediately guarded, about ready to leave until he spotted Emily Yoshida-Park, who was gathering up her books and making her way to a desk.

Josh zoomed past Richard and placed himself in front of Emily. The girl watched him beneath her bangs skeptically, piercing and cold brown eyes staring into his soul. Josh wondered for the second time if this was a good idea, but there wasn't any going back now.

"Hi, I'm Josh Washington." He greeted.

"I know who you are," she replied, in a strange tone that Josh thought might have been funny but then Mr. Jaeger was speaking and they were studying some equations. Emily, he found out, was sharp as shit. She'd been studying the curriculum way past their grade level, but she took it slow with Josh so he could understand what the hell X really was.

Also, as it turns out, smart-as-a-whip Emily and dumb-as-a-doornail Josh had more things in common than originally anticipated. They both watched Breaking Bad religiously, and liked the same kind of music. Josh even found out that Emily liked video games, and had just started playing _Bioshock 2_ , a new game he had finished a week prior and loved.

After tutoring was over, Josh and Emily exchanged numbers, and his friendship with her would be a catalyst for not only meeting new friends, but also getting himself in some stranger situations, where he'd have to make even more decisions.

Speaking of, the third (3rd) good decision he made was at a party, one being hosted by none other than Michael Munroe. Josh was seventeen at the time, starting his junior year in high school. Emily and Mike had been on and off for about two years, but at this point in time they were going steady, and Mikey let Em come and bring whoever the hell she wanted.

In fact, when Josh arrived with Em and Chris, he saw that Whoever The Hell seemed to be the #1 name on the RSVP list. There were drugs, alcohol and strangers everywhere, and Josh for the first time understood what people meant when they said this is my scene.

Flash forward to a few hours later and at least twenty-five people were gathered in a circle with a bottle spinning in the middle of them. If Josh was being honest, he couldn't begin to recount the events that lead him to this position on the floor, but that was just what happened when you've had more than a few. More than a few, meaning about six. Sitting there, nursing his own drink was Mike, chatting with him about some weird game Josh didn't quite get the rules to. Something about "I know it's pretty cliche, but this place could use some turning up the heat if you know what I mean..."

He didn't. Obviously.

The sound of hoots and hollers grabbed his attention from Mike to somewhere across the makeshift circle. Everyone was looking towards where the bottle was pointing, so he took the social cue and did so as well. Josh squinted and made out a low ponytail of blonde hair on top of a tomato-red face, and he got a weird feeling in his stomach that could have been because of the alcohol but was mostly because he recognized the girl. It was Samantha Fischer, his little sister Hannah's best friend of nine years, ever since they met in girl scouts. Their families knew each other very well, and Josh was confused. He wasn't sure Mr. and Mrs. Fischer would be comfortable if they knew their daughter was at a party like this. Sam didn't look the least bit comfortable either, not in this position, staring down the neck of a beer bottle deciding her fate. Josh was starting to get a bad feeling, too. If this set up was anything like he saw in the movies, then Sam was in a precarious position.

Some burnout to Josh's left reached into the circle and unceremoniously spun the bottle once again, a dumb grin splitting his face in half. Josh watched Sam watch it spin. He recognized a conflicted look on her face before putting it together that it must mean the bottle had landed, so he looked down to see where it was pointing. When he did, he understood.

He saw that the tip of the bottle was stuck dead center between him and Mike. Josh's eyes, seemingly being one pace slower than everyone else's in the room, blearily shifted from the bottle to the boy he was likely going to have a predicament with. Mike was way ahead of him, staring at Josh with his warm chocolate brown eyes and smiling slyly, his perfect white teeth peaking slightly from beneath the charming pull of his lips.

It's not that he didn't like Mike. It was quite the opposite, actually. The Munroe kid was incredibly charismatic, and more intelligent than he let on, or that his appearance and personal habits would indicate. The only issue in this situation, enough for Josh to even call it a predicament, was that he knew about a lot of Mike's personal habits, courtesy of Emily. One of which was his sexual deviance. He also knew Sam too well, had known her since they were little and basically saw her as a family member, like another little sister (even though she was in the same grade as him and they were closer in age then he was to Han and Beth).

The idea of letting Mike breach this territory with Sam brought out the protective streak in Josh, the one that busted the balls of prospective boyfriends who Hannah would sometimes have over for dinner. He didn't like the feeling, because it made him do stupid shit, stupid shit like:

"Dibs!" Josh blurted, only half-aware of how belligerent and childish he sounded. Mike even seemed a little surprised. Maybe he wasn't expecting such an immediate or passionate response from someone like Josh, at least not about a girl like Sam. Nonetheless, Mike threw up his hands in the air, his expression filled with mirth from some humor that Josh wasn't picking up on.

"All yours, bro, I guess." Mike surrendered.

Suddenly, Josh realized exactly where he stood in this situation he put himself in, and the pit in his stomach fell. He really hoped they weren't playing what he thought they were playing. Personally, he would rather kiss a fish than Sam Fischer. Not any offense to the girl, who was certainly conventionally attractive, but he couldn't kiss someone that he attributed with Hannah and Beth. He couldn't kiss someone who used to be an energetic little 9-year-old who took part in tearing his life apart, as younger sisters tended to do. No way could he do that. But he couldn't drop out, not after making a big show of claiming the spin so Mike couldn't. He would look like a pussy.

He looked over to Sam, who seemed to take a small breath of relief. That was a good sign, right? A sign that he'd made the right choice? That meant that it wasn't a kissing game, because if it was then Josh was sure she'd be freaking out in the same way. Right? Unless Sam had a crush on him. Oh, god. That couldn't be true, could it? Thinking about it made him want to be sick.

"Let's give it up to the first two lucky contestants." Mike announced to the group of drunk teens.

Some whistles blew Josh's way but he still wasn't at ease, not until he was sure he didn't have to kiss Sam.

"Alright-y." Mike got up from the floor. "Let me lead you guys to the closet of love . . ."

_Oh, thank god,_ Josh thought, relieved. _It's just Seven Minutes In Heaven._

Reassured, Josh bounded up from the carpet unsteadily, and stumbled behind Mike to where he'd have to spend seven minutes with Sam, alone. It could be a lot worse, though. At least no element of exhibitionism was involved in this scenario, and when he got in there he was going to lay it straight. He would tell her that there was no way he could go there with her, or develop feelings like that.

"Just so you know, I don't like you . . . like that," Sam told him softly in the closet the very second the door closed. There was a furrow in her brow that was visible from the light of Josh's phone as she spoke, and she looked apologetic. "I'm sorry. I mean, you're like a brother. That would be gross."

Josh sat back in wonder. Looks like the energy he was going to use to construct a cohesive and concise sentence could be expended later.

"Thank god," He sighed after a second of reevaluation. "I totally thought I got myself in deep jus' now."

"Wait," Sam paused. "You're not into me?"

"Oh, god no, Sam, come on." He deflected, uncomfortable at the suggestion. "Same thought-process as you, dude."

Sam, to her credit, looked a bit taken aback.

"Then what was with the whole 'dibs' thing, huh?" She countered, genuinely confused, and okay, he could understand where she got the idea from in retrospect.

"Okay, well, that wasn't what it looked like." He explained, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt idly. He thought out his words carefully, speaking slowly so it all didn't slur together. "I jus' didn't want Mike to be all up in your business, is all. You didn't look like you wanted it either."

Sam sort of deflated at the last part, averting her eyes so they were downcast and then Josh was uncertain again. Maybe he'd made the wrong choice after all.

"Shit, unless that's what you wanted? I mean, sorry to cock block you but Mike is still dating Em. . . probably. . . and that's not cool to her if—"

"No!" Sam interjected, exasperated, bright green eyes wide with emphasis, and she chuckled to herself but it mostly sounded like an exhale. "No, no, that's not it. Trust me."

"Oh, okay." Josh said after a too long pause. He wondered how much time had passed already. After the weird silence, it felt like hours. Blinking, he took a real look at the girl across from him. Her body language did not read the way it usually did, especially since she was usually more comfortable around him. "Are . . . you okay, Sammy?"

"What?" She sounded a little bit startled. She looked it, too.

"I don't know, it just looks like somethin's bothering you."

"No, I'm fine," She said robotically. Josh's face was smug, unconvinced.

"You know you can tell me anything." He supplied, craning his head down to study Sam's face, trying and peg at what the problem was. She couldn't look at him, and he watched as her lip went steady to wobbly, her nose flared, and her eyes filled with tears she desperately tried to keep in. "Hey, what's the matter?" He asked, surprised but soft.

This was concerning. Josh hadn't seen Sam cry in years; the last time was when she fell off her bike and she got over that pretty quickly. Sam has always been incredibly resilient and emotionally stable. Seeing her like this. . . Josh had gleaned that something was very wrong.

"I'm not. . . normal." She hiccuped, squeezing her eyes so tight it looked like it hurt. Josh didn't know what to do. He especially didn't like what she'd said, hitting a bit too close to home. It made a bad feeling pool in his stomach. "I'm sorry, sorry. . ." She said frantically, wiping her nose. "God, I feel stupid."

"Don't feel stupid." He admonished gently. He bit his lip. "What do you mean you're not normal?"

At the prompt, her body rocked with a quiet sob, and she gasped for breath.

"Hey, hey," Josh reached his arms out to wrap around the crying girl, instincts kicking in to comfort her, just like he would with Hannah or Beth. "C'mere."

Sam was reluctant at first to take the comfort, but soon enough she succumbed and was clinging to the older boy, hiding her face in his chest.

Josh was silent for a few moments. He wanted to know what it was that got her so worked up, but he let her take her time. He understood that it was something she needed to talk about, although he wouldn't demand to know what it is, at least not now. Years of therapy taught him that you should do your best to prevent making the person feel trapped or cornered. "Can you tell me what's going on?" Josh said into her hair quietly.

She shook her head against him, breath stuttering. "You'd hate me if I did." She whispered, voice muffled almost the the point of incoherence as it strained to let itself out past the fabric of his shirt.

Josh almost scoffed. "I wouldn't hate you." He told her, self-assured. "You're Sam. You're awesome."

She sniffled, resting her chin on top of his shoulder and letting out a shaky breath. "I thought it would go away eventually. . . I knew it wasn't natural or anything like that, and then I found out what it really was. . . God, I'm sick. I feel so out of place, Josh. . ." Josh, in all his confusion, still didn't know what Sam was insinuating.

"What are you talkin' about, Sammy?" He asked, brows furrowed in concern.

"I've never told anyone, but I'm. . ." She paused, hesitant to divulge this secret now, in this position. It was the hardest thing she'd ever tried to do, and she wasn't sure if she could go through with it. However, something about the slow rub of Josh's hand on Sam's back, the gentle quality of his voice, and the warmth of his body so close to hers made her find the strength. "I'm. . . gay." She forced out like she was pulling a knife out of her chest.

Josh's breathing stopped. That word. Gay. It struck him in the face with a cold, harsh _whap!_ that felt more like breaking ice than shattering glass. The dangerous word lurked in the strange part of his mind that was cloudy most of the time and disturbingly clear the rest. Coming out of Sam's mouth right now, it made him uncomfortable in the same way it made him feel strangely free. He let out the breath he'd been holding. Sam rambled on.

"I don't like boys, I-I like girls and I don't know what's wrong with me but-"

"Hey, don't worry," Josh said, suddenly much more sober, suddenly much more aware. He laughed a bit, one little huff of breath that was mostly from how he couldn't believe what he was about to say next. "Me, too."

"Ha ha, very funny." Sam said dryly, annoyed at the implication she thought she was picking up on. She pulled herself back and wiped her face with the back of her sleeve, avoiding Josh's eyes.

"No, no, that's not what I mean." He said, his expression serious and the look in his eyes was weighted and genuine when Sam met them. There was an incredulous and wary tilt to her brows, suspicious, and her mouth was half open like she was going to respond but she didn't. She was waiting for him to continue on with whatever he was trying to say. Josh ran his hand through his hair bashfully, a self-deprecating half-smile set upon his face. "I-I think we might have that. . . that little situation in common, there, Sam."

She was silent, taking in this new information, trying to determine if he was being serious. After consideration, she concluded that he was because it made absolutely no sense for him to joke about something like this. Sam opened her mouth to speak, but stopped herself. She didn't know what to say. Josh was silent, too. It didn't seem right to talk. This was a secret they both had been holding onto for a long time, and letting it go meant an entirely new environment that they weren't sure how to handle. For right now, they just sat.

After an indeterminably long time, Sam spoke up.

"I don't know if this is what Seven Minutes in Heaven was intended for." She said candidly. Josh silently agreed. Out of nowhere, he laughed, and then Sam giggled, and suddenly the tension and silence was broken.

"Yeah, I think we might be the first two to come out of the closet after going into one."

Sam laughed more, not a trace of tears left on her face and Josh was filled with relief at having lifted her spirits. He took a good look at her, understanding her on a whole new level and suddenly he felt tremendously closer to her. After this revelation, things would be different for the both of them. He wasn't sure he was completely comfortable with the subject when it came to his own personal life, but talking about it with Sam was definitely a step in that direction.

The laughter quieted, and all of the sudden the atmosphere was back to normal, no more uncertainty or pain.

"So how did you know?" Josh asked, finding the opportunity for that question to be asked in the silence. "That you were, you know . . ."

"Girls locker room, eighth grade." Sam answered readily. "That's when I started getting the idea." She chuckled humorlessly, and her face took on a strained quality. "I felt like a such a freak, trying to figure out what it meant. And then I knew, but I couldn't tell my parents or Hannah. I couldn't tell anyone. Well, until now." She looked up, and Josh smiled sympathetically. "You?"

"Ah—" He cleared his throat. "Uhm, not sure. Haven't really thought about it much." He was thinking about it now, though. He didn't quite like what was coming up, or rather who was coming up in his memories regarding the subject. "Maybe third grade?" He added hesitantly, "O-or maybe later. I don't know, it's kinda just always been there, you know? Like on the back burner. Sorry, does that make sense?"

"Yeah," Sam said hoarsely. "Yeah, I get what you mean." Sam was thoughtful for a second, observing Josh's demeanor and he was suddenly very self-conscious. And then, all at once, the look was gone, and she scrubbed her face, sighing. "Has it been seven minutes yet?" She asked.

Josh looked down at his phone to check the time, and his brows flew up in surprised. "It's been about ten minutes, I think, actually."

"Oh."

"Yeah," Josh smiled conspiratorially, "I guess they forgot about us. Do you wanna get out?"

Sam rubbed her eyes, conscious of her tear-stained face. "Do I look like a pussy still?"

"I thought that's what you were into?" Josh asked, faux-innocently, and Sam punched him in the arm, hard. He laughed despite himself. "Ow."

They ended up staying there for a few more minutes in order to make sure Sam's face wasn't red or puffy anymore. She wouldn't be caught dead looking like she was crying, especially not at a party like this. It would be social suicide. Turns out they wouldn't be attracting too much attention anyway. Josh found out that night, walking out of the closet, that parties have an attention span of about five minutes. Not seven. It should be called five minutes in heaven, really.

Sam smiled when he told that to her, and he noticed she seemed to be a lot more smiley that entire rest of the night. He felt accomplished because of it.

That was the third time.

The fourth (4th) time Josh has been going back and forth on whether or not it was the right or wrong choice. It felt selfish either way, but there was something about the way he looked at her that made him think he could fix a few of both of their problems, or at least smothering some of his own.

Chris was staring at the spot above an auburn head every day in Physics their senior year and Josh had noticed. Actually, noticed sounded like the wrong word. It was more like he couldn't stop noticing whenever Chris stared at her locker when she was gone or hung around the band room in hopes that she would walk out and the blonde could find an excuse to talk to her, even though he never did and probably never would. It made Josh feel conflicted. On one hand, Chris' pining was incredibly unexciting to watch. He wanted his best friend to go for it and let himself be happy instead of just run in circles and angst quietly. On the other, Josh's feelings were screaming at him to cling desperately to Chris' leg, and maybe even use it to kick Ashley in her stupidly adorable fucking face.

That was her name. _Ashley Campbell_ , the object of Chris Hartley's recent attention and obsession. Anger boiled in Josh's body every time he thought about her and Chris and all of their potential and how cute they would be together and that scared him. It scared him because he knew it didn't mean he was angry at Ashley, but that he was jealous of her and the attention Chris gave her, as well as the type of attention he gave. So Josh starting pushing Chris to make a move, inadvertently pushing Chris away because he was too afraid of the alternative. His plan would be working pretty well if Chris actually listened to his advice instead of completely ignore it and continue on his path of pining. However, there was a certain day in class, sometime in December, that watching Chris watch Ashley had gotten far too old.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer." Josh quipped, snatching Chris' homework in order to copy it. "Seriously, man, when are you gonna stop staring like a creep and just go for it already?"

Chris looked at the brunette to his right skeptically, sliding his worksheet back to his own side of the desk. "You're getting too used to my help in this class." He warned.

" _You're_ changing the subject." Josh contradicted, swiping the paper back and arching his brow.

Chris ignored him, and his tone of voice was the same. "There's a test next week, I can tutor you but I can't let you cheat off me after last time, Mrs. Kline is way up my ass and—"

Josh slammed his hands to either side of his own head, incredulous. "Chris, holy shit, just grow a pair and talk to her!"

"Chill, Washington." He said, hushed, trying to get Josh to keep his voice down. "She's probably not even into me. I don't want to annoy her."

Josh gave him a typical look.

"It's not that important. Seriously."

"If you say so," Josh replied, wrapping his knuckles on the surface of his binder. Then he started pulling back his chair and swung his legs from underneath their desk. He got up from his seat, winking to Chris, a sly smile on his lips.

"What—wait, what are you doing?" Chris spluttered.

"Relax, I'm just going to the bathroom." Josh assured. Chris didn't believe him for a second, but he didn't say anything, just looked up at him with barely concealed suspicion. Josh didn't appear to be fazed.

Chris watched his best friend head for the door, and right as he got to a point where Chris didn't think he'd have to worry, Josh started making a beeline towards the empty chair next to Ashley. "No, no, no, you little shit." Chris cursed under his breath. "Oh, my god."

Josh's stomach twisted at the realization of what he was about to do, but he swallowed and sat down anyway, putting on the charm for the conversation he was about to be having. He looked over to Chris before taking the seat, sporting a shit-eating grin, taking in Chris' red cheeks and panicked eyes, his lips as they mouthed the words no over and over, pointedly. 

"Hey, Ashley, right?" Josh said smoothly as he fell into the chair, and Ashley's hazel eyes seemed surprised when she looked over to him. Her friend, Matt, who usually sat next to her was apparently absent today and it was strange to see the chair he usually occupied taken up by the Washington kid who was apparently trying to socially engage her. She smiled politely, anyway.

"Yeah, that's me," She said with a weird half-giggle, teetering on the edge of awkward and endearing and making Josh want to throw up. He swallowed it down and flashed her a smile. "Uh, what's up?"

"Classroom poll," Josh started, "You win five million dollars, and the same day you get the check, aliens land on the Earth and say they're going to blow up the world in two days. What are you gonna do with the money?"

She laughed uncertainly at this. "That's from _Heathers_ , right?"

Josh was surprised that she understood the reference. In fact, he was almost impressed. _Heathers_ was one of Josh's personal favorites, second to _Citizen Kane_ , but his favorites were usually suspect to most other people his age. "You have good taste in movies." He complimented.

"Thanks," Ashley's smile was genuine this time, her perfect feminine lips upturning and her sweet eyes crinkling a little. Josh hated her for how easy she made it look. "I totally think that late 80's early 90's was, like, one of the best times for making movies."

_Does he like her because she's into movies?_ Josh thought to himself. _I'm into movies._

She was definitely geeky like Chris, but in a charming way, where their eyes would light up when they talked about the things they really loved and they would talk faster and it hurt so bad to see all the ways Ashley was better for Chris than Josh could ever be. He needed to act, though, so he decided to do something drastic.

"So, I'm having a party sometime next week," He fronted, arms extended a little and the tone of his voice like he was giving some kind of important pitch to a producer. "Just a casual thing with a few friends. We'll chill, have a good time, maybe even watch some 80's flicks. You in?" She seemed uncertain, so he tried to make the idea more comfortable for her by adding. "You can bring your friend Matt if you wanna, or whoever." Not ideal, but he could work with it.

"Oh, well . . ." Ashley was taken off guard by the out-of-nowhere invitation. "Uh, I don't know," She stalled, and grabbed her agenda, flipping to the month of December, "I'll have to check my schedule and see—"

"Okay, I'm gonna let you in on a little secret," Josh cut her off, leaning in closer, a conspiratorial look on his face. He hated himself, but he had a feeling that this was the way to get Ashley on board with the whole idea. "My buddy Chris over there was the one that told me to invite you." Ashley's face changed at that, and she looked over to where Josh gestured fleetingly. Josh could tell her interest was peaked. "He said you seemed super cool, and wanted to talk to you. So it would be awesome if you could stop by for a while and hang out with us." Before he could be accused of laying it on too thick, he finished with a cursory: "No pressure though."

And that seemed to do the trick, because Ashley's tone was completely different when she said, "Yeah, um, totally. I'll try and stop by. When is it?" She asked, fidgeting with her pencil absentmindedly, maybe a little nervously if Josh was picking up on it right and he usually was. "And, uh . . . Where?"

"Here, give me your number and I'll text you the details later," He offered. She nodded quickly, going into her binder for a piece of paper and writing down the digits neatly but quickly. She then ripped it out and handed it to him with a cute U-shape to her mouth that Josh thought made her look like an anime character. He was all of the sudden very annoyed with her existence, but didn't let that show on his face. He just took the paper and got up from his chair, all relaxed like nothing was the matter but he was tearing up from the inside out when he gave her a quick goodbye and a hope to see you later that he didn't actually believe in.

When he made it back to his seat, Chris was brooding at him very loudly. Josh plopped the piece of paper with Ashley's number on it in front of him, face smug.

"Wanna come to a party next week?"

 


	2. Bathroom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's been two months. And I'm still not finished. The final scene, which I'm horrendously stuck on, is the whole reason I'm making this a three-chapter work. That and the fact that I've been adding too much here and there instead of finishing. 
> 
> By the way, warnings for a lot of homophobic language. 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy.

 

 

 

Ever since the day Josh finally broke the ice between Chris and Ash, things have been going frustratingly slowly yet mercifully tame for the brunette boy who still couldn't figure out where he stood on the matter of Chris dating someone else. Nonetheless, he had been cheerleading every single interaction regardless of the magnitude, from meet-ups at the locker to sit-downs at the lunch table. As far as Josh could tell, Ashley seemed to be pretty into Chris, too. Not that she had any reason not to be into him, but he considered himself to be a little biased. In any event, feelings were obviously starting to blossom into something big.

 

Josh was trying his best be a supporting friend during this excruciatingly slow development. He had to ignore his knee-jerk reaction to latch onto Chris and never let go in order to allow Ashley to move into his best friend's life, even if it meant Josh one day having to move out. Not only that, but Josh was stuck in a position where he was expected to encourage this. He tried to make himself be happy for Chris during his escapades, he really did, but sitting down and thinking it through made him feel like someone shit in his soul, the fog of sadness clouding around him like it always did when he was off his meds for too long or he could feel his heart starting to break. He would try to push it down, but that only led to the feelings bubbling back up in the quiet hours of the night, stronger than when they started, like a drug-resistant disease.

 

This often lead to break downs in his bedroom when everyone else is asleep, as well as periods of unexplained listlessness or, worse, extreme irritability. They were these awful moods that he couldn't talk to Chris about whenever his best friend would ask him what was the matter, and that just made things a thousand times worse. It made for more things he had to lie about, deflecting questions like "Why aren't you eating?" and "You look exhausted, dude. What'd you do last night?" with clipped answers like "Had a big breakfast," or "Stayed up playing Xbox."

 

The worst of it, though, was the causation behind the situation. Turns out Chris having a little crush was one of the worst things that could ever happen to Josh. He just couldn't handle himself. Go fucking figure. Keeping up with his loose ends, whether that was his feelings towards Chris, his feelings toward himself, his feelings towards Ashley, his behavior towards all of the above, his family and friends, his mental health, et cetera . . . It was like trying to give twenty very pissed off cats a bath in the same tub. He couldn't adjust one without compromising the other, and it made for a balancing act he wasn't sure how long he could keep up. 

 

It was like some kind of vicious loop he couldn't get out of, but there really weren't any other options. It wasn't like he could go up to Chris all like _Hey, man, I know I'm telling you to bang this chick but I love you and I want you to be with me instead also I'm into dudes._ Clearly, that wasn't in his wheel house, or his best interest. He's always been without a doubt that he'd rather suffer through having Chris as just a friend than suffer through not having him at all.

 

In order to do this, he made himself out to be the best wing man he could be, but, again, that did not come without huge tribulations. Forcing yourself to become someone else out of the fear of rejection and isolation meant sacrifices, and lots of them. Josh pushed himself into the box of machismo womanizer so much so that he was beginning not to recognize himself anymore. He was being ugly and crass in reference to Ashley, embodying the dudebro attitude which sometimes worked, and sometimes failed. Hard. Watching Chris ricochet his attempts at guy-conversation in favor of being respectful and modest was starting to put a big strain on their relationship. Now, even though this talk did nothing to give Chris a kick in the pants, and only seemed to drive him and his pants away, Josh was in the mean time also trying to compensate for his inadequacy within the subject of, well. . . _Girls_. The insecure part of him, the part he hated more than anything, didn't want Chris having any doubts about where he lied on the spectrum, and who he lied with.

 

Thus, he tried really hard to keep his sexual preferences under the radar, figuring it was best for everyone if he just kept pretending. Of course, he wanted to stop having to hide such a significant aspect of his life from everyone except Sam, but he was also terrified of being so vulnerable to judgement about something he hasn't quite reconciled with himself. He'd like to believe that this constant deceit was a casual affair, not some mask he kept putting on, but whenever he could feel something slip—some wayward glance or off-hand comment—and he thought Chris noticed, terror would consume him and he couldn't think anything other than _He knows and he hates me_. Despite Chris never showing any outward homophobia, nothing could make Josh stop thinking he would leave if he knew his best buddy was a faggot.

 

And yet, even through all the fear and uncertainty, there was a stubborn thought rising to the forefront of Josh's brain that he just couldn't push down. This thought sprouted from the part of Josh that loved Chris with all his heart, and became aflame with jealously when someone else, even by his own doing, seriously threatened the delicate balance of their relationship. Pure fear, Josh has learned, is something he has the ability suppress. Pure anger, on the other hand, is not, and Ashley's now constant involvement in Chris' life was only salting the wound.

 

So, even though Josh was trying to push Ash and Chris together, he couldn't suppress the fucking envy and he hated himself for it.  Although, that didn't mean he wasn't trying his best. When it came down to it, all that really mattered was if Chris was happy, and Josh could go be his sad and fucked-up self somewhere else. And it hurt right now, surely. It hurt like a bitch, but it was a sacrifice he was willing to make for the sake of his best friend.

 

In case it wasn't clear, inviting Ashley to his party was the first sacrifice.

 

The party actually ended up being pretty fun, and by pretty fun that meant there was enough alcohol to kill a horse with not enough people to drink it. Throughout the night, Ash and Chris avoided each other's presence and their shared nerves were annoyingly palpable. Noticing this, Josh knew he had to improvise, and he would do so with a bottle a liquor and a dream. Ironically, this mirrored a myriad of his most recent life experiences. Nevertheless, he managed to convince Ashley to have have Jägerbombs with him, because if Josh knew anything about alcohol, it was that it did wonders for nerves and suggestibility. Ashley was unsure about it at first, biting her lip and flitting her eyes around, her skepticism getting the best of her. He knew a thing or two about that, Josh was also the type of person to accept alcohol without a second thought, as he found it marred his ability to care about anything. Of course, that personal sentiment came from bounds of experience, so Josh had to ask her if she'd ever had a drink before.

 

Instantly, her cheeks reddened in embarrassment.

 

"Of course I've had a drink." Ashley said.

 

Josh took her in, and arched a brow. Her case wasn't very strong.

 

"Oh, yeah?" He asked, utterly disbelieving and it was clear in his tone. He felt a smirk sprout on his face as he poured the Jägermeister into little pink and green plastic shot glasses for the two of them, and something in him was gleaming from the perceived superiority he now felt over the other.

 

"Yeah." She assured, her brows furrowing cutely and nodding her head. It made Josh's heart clench every time he figured out another way Ashley was adorable, and he faked a fond smile., pitching his voice to sound light heartedly condescending and not really condescending. He was in complete control.

 

"Sure you have."

 

"No, really!"

 

Then she pushed Josh in the arm playfully and he was taken off guard, eyes widening a fraction. He had to stop himself from bristling at her, telling himself it was an innocent touch. More importantly, it was Ashley; SPCA volunteering, vegetarian, wouldn't-hurt-a-fly Ashley. She never meant anyone any harm. Recomposing himself, he pretending to take damage from her light hand, opening his jaw wide with a wordless exclamation and grinning so that Ashley could be in-the-know. She giggled, seemingly a lot more comfortable despite not having a drip of booze in her system. Josh was affected by this, as the reason he was relaxed had a lot to do with the drinks he'd sucked down before the party even started. Hence, it was gonna take a lot more than his jealousy and a little shove to make him become outwardly waspish tonight. For now, he was going to be the life of the party, in every sense of the word.

 

Somewhere in the real world, Ashley was continuing her alibi.

 

"I snuck a beer from my dad's section of the fridge once."

 

She seemed awfully proud of herself, and Josh stifled a snicker as he pictured her committing this small-scale act of rebellion. He bet she hadn't even enjoyed it that much. He imagined her button-nose crinkling in disgust from her father's no doubt cheap, unforgiving beer, ever the newcomer to teenage fixations. Feeling ambitious, he decided to test her on it. 

 

"And how'd it taste?" 

 

Ashley's face fell, confirming Josh's suspicion. "Pretty gross." 

 

He laughed at her, and she laughed with him ignorantly, too naive to know any different. She really was too sweet for Josh to be associating with her, making it clear to him that, personality wise, they couldn't be more opposed. Suddenly, branching from a realization that was a like a punch to the face, Josh hated her all the more for applying to Chris' tastes in ways he never could. He swallowed the hate down, though, and bit out a convincing grin. 

 

"Well I can't promise this stuff is gonna be a walk in the park," He conceded, handing the redhead the little pink plastic of the cup carefully. Ashley took it and sniffed, pulling a face. "But after a few more, the taste totally won't matter."

 

Within the next thirty minutes, Ashley had knocked down more than her fair share of stiff liquor and Josh was reluctantly impressed with her ability to take it. That feeling faded into being threatened when Ash claimed to be able to surpass his count, which he thought was impossible and almost laughed in her face but held back and thought it through. He concluded that he might as well take an easy victory from the girl. In fact, maybe he even deserved one.

 

Now, Josh is very competitive, and he let her know as much. It didn't take very long to find out Ashley was just as competitive, if not more, than Josh anticipated.

 

The girl could drink, that much was for sure, and Josh, inebriated and then some, didn't have the right mind to tell her she should most definitely probably stop before she would regret it.

 

It seems that he never had the right mind for anything.

 

By the time Ash was successfully drinking him under the table, Chris had come into the kitchen from the living room, looking for some ice for his coke but more likely looking for the redhead who was now super plastered and super suggestible. Josh, noticing the brilliant moment of serendipity, took the cue and all but shoved the wasted Ashley straight into the blonde's scrambling, unprepared arms.

 

He learned that night that shoving and Jägermeister didn't mix well. Ashley was pretty unsteady as is, not needing the extra push for her to puke every drop of alcohol she'd consumed all over Chris' black and white sneakers.

 

Josh will never live that one down. Ashley has since stopped drinking with him at parties. Josh, to his credit, took that night as a victory. He thought it best not to boast, though.

 

So maybe him being impulsive didn't always have best of outcomes some of the time, but Josh would bet that his spontaneity was one of his winning attributes, especially at parties.

 

As it happens, Josh was especially spontaneous when under the influence of anything more than five shots of vodka, especially when those shots of vodka had been consumed within the last ten minutes at a party such as the one Josh had thrown on March 8th of 2013.

 

It was planned halfway through most of the gang's spring break, for those of them going to college. The people invited were mostly just his close friends who mixed well together, and if they didn't, then it called for some pretty entertaining cat fights and dick measuring contests that never failed to make him smile. Ashley was there, too. 

 

Josh's patience for Ashley had slowly started running dry ever since that past fall, at the beginning of the semester. Her and Chris' relationship was being reinforced by private hangouts and sort-of-dates in the guise of study groups, all without Josh's help or participation in such groups because he was taking a year off, a thoughtless decisions he has since come to regret. Because of this, Chris didn't have enough time for him, and it made Josh especially sour towards she who was stealing all his best friend's attention. Things were becoming tense between Josh and the twosome, so, obviously, hanging out as a threesome had to be a fucking nightmare.

 

Josh forced himself to be civil to Ash most of the time, for Chris' sake, but there were also times when he just couldn't help himself, spitting out a biting remark or a backhanded compliment, returning her questions and conversation with clipped, curt responses because he was thinking about how much of an leech she was on his life, despite being sweeter than two cups of fucking honey, the love of the love of his life's life. He would kick himself every time he let something slip unchecked, but it always felt so good to take out his frustrations on her.

 

 Ashley never rebuffed him, though. She never once called him out on the shitty way he treated her, which was honestly all the more infuriating. She just stood there and took all of it with a downcast look in her eyes and a quiet pout and all of the sudden, Josh was the worst person in the entire world. 

 

Chris' reactions to all of these instances completely fortified that idea, as if it would be any different with prideful, protective, diplomatic Christopher Hartley that Josh thought he knew so well. Whether it was a raised eyebrow or guarded look, it started to seem to Josh that Chris didn't recognize him so much anymore, especially when he got into one of his moods, of which he used to be so good at handling. Although it's not like he was ever required to, but the addition of Ashley definitely changed some things, and it felt like they were drifting.

 

That was what hurt the worst. It made Josh feel like he didn't deserve Chris as a friend, let alone anything more. It felt like he was nothing but a burden, and an asshole to the girl that Chris was sweet on, unable to explain his point of view. He could only imagine what it looked like to Chris.

 

This never did staunch his occasionally cruel demeanor, or bring into perspective the torrent of emotions Josh had about Ashley and Chris and himself. All it really ever did was add flame to the fire. 

 

Chris had tried talking with him about it multiple times, but Josh would quickly come up with a way to change the subject, and when that didn't work he'd just start spewing bullshit and Chris would effectively give up. Eventually, the two just avoided the subject altogether. They started avoiding a lot, lately.

 

Josh didn't like to think about it. He didn't like to think, period. His train of thought never was very pleasant, particularly lately.

 

At this party, though, the one on March 8th, 2013, Josh found a solution, one that had always worked before, which was drowning his thoughts with booze. Shot number six was burning down his throat before he even realized he had become a part of a conversation with something other than the alcohol. His head snapped up at the realization, and a dopey grin graced his face. 

 

"Hey, you wanna slow down there, J?" Chris had called out to him. He was leaning against the booze table that Josh slammed his shot glass down on haphazardly. He was sipping a rum and coke in a red solo, and Josh's only thought was that Chris' choice of beverage could stand some improvement.

 

"You wanna c-catch up there, Cochise?" He countered, thinking it was a top-tier comeback when in reality Chris just scoffed without a bat of his eye and carried on.

 

"Yeah, okay, Speed. I got it."

 

The lighting made him hard to see and Josh's eyes were bleary from intoxication but, after shot number seven had made it's way down, something about Chris' face made it seem like he wanted to say something but kept on biting it back. Josh kinda hated when he did that, and hated even more that he knew what Chris wanted to say.

 

They were both aware it was an explosive topic.

 

The word _alcoholic_ wasn't meant for people their age, and Josh vividly remembered the first time Chris used it. Needless to say, that wasn't a good night for either of them. Josh wasn't looking for a repeat performance, and he hoped that's not what this was leading to because the tone of Chris' voice bred nonchalance but the look in his eyes said You worry me when you do stuff like this and the look in his eyes was always so much louder. 

 

"'M jus' having some _fun_ , bro." Josh stressed 'fun' like it was a new vocabulary word he was trying to teach him, like they were back in elementary school. "Look it up."

 

Chris wasn't exactly the most laid back person in the world, even though he liked to pretend he was, enough to make him the class clown. Josh knew it was only a defense mechanism, an attempt to make people like him more. He's always known the real Chris, one that not everyone else gets to see, not even Ashley. Josh felt absurdly good about the fact that he knew Chris to be an uptight bitch sometimes. He really only used drugs and drank in moderation or for special occasions, claiming that he didn't like to lose control of himself if he could help it.

 

Josh had quite the opposite philosophy, and it was a wonder that the two of them were still such close friends in spite of it, what with how much Josh relied on substances to have a good time and Chris' rejection of such a dependency.

 

Josh didn't like to think about that much. 

 

But Josh had already shaken it off, smiling that dopey smile again. Alcohol had a way of doing that. "Why don' you take a shot?" He offered the one he filled for himself.  

 

Chris side-eyed him, a tight smile stretching across his lips, but Josh saw through that. "Eh, I'd rather keep my liquor in my body, man. Thanks but no thanks." And then he fingered gunned him, classically blithe, and Josh saw through that, too. 

 

Maybe it was just because they've known each other for years, but Josh, even through the intoxication, noticed Chris' expression was harder than it should have been. It reminded him of the way he looked when they watched _Eraserhead_ for the first time. Chris had hated it with a burning passion and cursed David Lynch and his fucked up avant garde style, swearing to himself he would never watch another auteur director again. Two weeks later Josh tried showing him _The Elephant Man_ and Chris nearly walked out of his house in refusal. His reaction was funny to Josh then, but it really wasn't very funny now. Not at all, actually.

 

In spite of the sudden shift in mood, Josh insisted with the shot. He extended his arm so his knuckles almost collided with Chris' nose and the blonde had to step back to avoid it.

 

"Come on, don't be a pussy." Josh joked, but it was sharp and a little hollow. He knew it sounded weird and Chris had definitely picked up on it, concern worrying his brow. After a second, he gave the tiny cup a look of contemplation. There was a stormy look in his eyes that meant he was deep in thought, pulling his lower lip between his teeth. 

 

Josh wanted more than anything in the world to lean in and kiss that look off of his stupid face and keep going until there was nothing left to be upset at. Instead, he just mirrored the look, biting his own lips and staring right back.

 

Chris most definitely wasn't a vodka guy; Josh knew that after years of experience. If the blonde was gonna get that drunk, it was going to be off of some top-shelf shit that wasn't bound to make Chris puke all morning. That being said, Jeremiah Craig wasn't exactly attainable at this point in the game. Josh's dad was going to notice and care if it was missing from his cabinet, and it wasn't as if Josh could buy it himself. He just wanted Chris to get wasted with him, period, so he was working with what he had in his arsenal.

 

"C'mon. You scared of a lil' vodka, Christine?" He taunted. "What would Ash think? I'm sure _she'd_ be okay with takin' this if you don't wan' it."

 

And at that Chris let out a sigh, shaking his head and taking the drink from Josh loose fingertips. "You're a dick, you know that?"

 

"Yeah, a _big_ one." Josh nodded implicitly as Chris sucked down the alcohol with a harsh kick back of his head. He bared his teeth at the burning sensation and the bitter taste settling in his mouth.

 

" _Uch_ , you wish." Chris replied, snarky but strained after downing the liquid poison. Josh laughed genuinely for the first time since they started their conversation. Chris looked relieved, even though he just drank a shot glass full of what he has in the past lovingly dubbed _stupid-juice._ That had made Josh laugh, too, back then.

 

"I see Christopher has joined us from the dead."

 

Chris whipped his head to the hand clapping him on the shoulder from behind. It was Matt, with a winning grin and a lively glint in his eyes, the most sober of everyone. No one would really describe him as straight-edge, per se, but with his close friend not being allowed to sleep over, he had made the noble decision that he would act as Ashley's designated driver for the night. Matt looked at Josh to give him a commending smile for all his efforts, then was gone again, presumably seeking some other interaction to comment on briefly. Matt was a good guy, but, without the aid of intoxicants, sometimes he was in a little over his head when it came to complex social situations; a little extra friendly. Josh supposed it was a good flaw to have.

 

Looking over to the other side of the room, Josh saw Sam and Ash smoking a bowl on the couch, and near to them Mike and Emily were partying with Em's new friend Jessica. The three of them were chugging from the keg set up in the middle of the living room. Josh's gaze then traveled to almost-empty the coffee table beside them. Almost immediately, there was a light bulb going off in his brain. 

 

"Hey. . . hey, Chris! What if I convince Ashley to let you take a body shot offa' her?" Josh's stomach churned once he said it out loud, but he of all people knew how important this was for them. Plus. the alcohol made him a lot more okay with the idea of his crush having sex with someone else. A little more liquor and he won't even remember insinuating it tomorrow.

 

 While a small part of Chris assumed Josh might have been kidding about the body shots, the more experienced side that has known the kid since elementary knew better. The look on Chris' face said it all, but he realized his inebriated friend wasn't too keen on reading body language right now, or so he assumed. He decided to vocalize his displeasure.

 

"No, bro, that's weird." He rejected, shaking his head. 

 

"Actually, it's awesome." Josh contradicted, grasping a half-empty bottle of tequila in preparation for his brilliance. Tonight, he was going to push Chris as far as he would go until he finally gave in to it and fucked the stupid fucking redhead. Body shots were clearly the first step in that direction.

 

"Body shots, logistically speaking, are pretty gross." Chris explained. "Besides, there's no way Ash'd be up for it."

 

Josh groaned, exasperated with Chris' reluctance to go along with his ideas. As recent studies show, meaning the vodka he just got him to consume, Josh had a way of getting Chris to do whatever he wanted.

 

 "Jesus, Cochise. What's it gonna take for me to put a few notches in your belt?"

 

"Apparently not body shots."

 

"I have to agree with Chris on this one," said Hannah, sneaking up from behind Josh, only to jump to the other team. Josh's jaw dropped at the betrayal, spinning to his little sister in shock.

 

"Excuse you, Hannah Mae, I was having a conversation before you so rudely butted in."

 

She gave him a look, not appreciating the use of her full name, but her expression may have been layered with something more than annoyance.

 

It wasn't a secret to the twins which team Josh played for, not just from sibling intuition although that was a big part of it. Out of all people, his sisters should have been the easiest to talk to about stuff, but for fear of them telling their parents, he kept his mouth shut for a while. It wasn't until Josh brought home some boy he found on Grindr who looked suspiciously blonde and geeky, nearly a year ago when his parents were out of town and he thought no one was home, that Beth got caught on to some things. The next day she told her sister all about the boy in his room, and the girls hounded their brother about it endlessly at breakfast, asking questions and giving him see-through looks. 

 

Josh was mortified at being put on the spot and tried fruitlessly to deflect, but one of the winning traits of the Washington family is stubbornness. So that's how Josh came out to his sisters, who hugged him close while hitting him across the head for telling Sam before them, which he also disclosed to the pair. Of course, he would never out Sam without her permission, but she had become a lot more open about it pretty much right after walking out of the closet, no pun intended. Since then, she had little to no issues telling their friend group about it, so gay stuff wasn't necessarily new grounds to anyone anymore, thanks to Sam's bravery.

 

Yet, despite everything, Josh was still scared.

 

Nonetheless, it was nice to not have to hide from his sisters anymore, even though Josh did urge the two never to tell mom and dad. He just couldn't handle being the gay one in addition to being the mentally ill one, not wanting to give up any more reason for him to be classified as a problem child. Of course, that's not how the twins saw it, but they respected his boundaries just the same.

 

Shortly after his coming out, Hannah and Beth started connecting the dots about the feelings their brother harbored for his best friend. It honestly wasn't that difficult to figure out. Josh rarely displayed affection or became attached to those outside of his immediate family and Chris was an outlier. Although, no matter how many times they told him to be honest with his feelings, he would never admit it to anyone. It was painful to have to watch him bury himself so deep.

 

"Thank you, Hannah, for butting in," Chris nodded to her, raising his red solo cup he had set down in a grateful gesture. He pitched his voice to sound like Princess Daisy, and it would have been a good impression if it wasn't so froggy. "It's nice to have someone come to my rescue once in a while."

 

"Sure thing," Hannah snickered, "but I actually just came to ask my brother something."

 

"Aha!" Josh pointed in Chris' face obnoxiously, victorious, and then came back to himself. "Oh, what is it?"

 

Hannah bit her lip hesitantly, sporting a look in her eyes that Josh remembered seeing when she asked him to drive her to that One Direction concert in So-Cal. "Uh, do you know if Mike is still with Emily and stuff?" She rushed out, secretive, and then tried to justify herself with: "I mean, I was just curious because-"

 

"Noo . . ." Josh complained, draping his arms loosely around his sister, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to preserve her innocence and purity. "Don't go for that, Bananah. You're better than that, dude." Then he bared down and tried to look her in the eyes. "Seriously, this pining has got to stop."

 

"Oh really?" She quirked a brow, and Josh's easy-going expression was wiped off his face in an instant. "Cause I could say the same thing about - Hey!"

 

Before she could finish Josh snatched her glasses off her face and ran, stumbling drunkenly into the part of the living room that everyone else was frequenting. Meanwhile, he was laughing maniacally.

 

"Get back here, you asshole!" Hannah chased after him and, comparing her BAC to his, it wasn't hard for her to catch up, jump on his back and make him go down with a few choice words of his own. Chris just watched it happen, kicked back with his drink and very amused.

 

Not long after Josh plummeted onto the ground, a couple members of the gang decided they should join in on the fun. They made dog pile on top of the siblings, crushing the oldest with the weight of intoxicated bodies.

 

A few minutes later Chris walked over and called everyone off. Reluctantly, and slowly, they did, and Chris took a seat next to Ashley.. It was at this point that Mike decided it was time to announce his benefactions, which was that he had unnecessarily brought bottles of bud from home. No matter that the Washington house was very well stocked; he was determined to do something with them.

 

"Hey, Joshington!" Mike craned his neck down to the boy who was still laying pantomime-squashed on the ground. He hadn't been given a reason to get up yet, so Mike thought, why not give him one? He offered an unopened bottle to the brunette. "Bet you can't finish this is in half a minute without puking."

 

Josh got himself up from the floor unsteadily, scrambling to look him in the face. "S'at a. . . challenge, Mikeroe?"

 

"Twenty bucks says your drunk ass can't do it." 

 

"Aw, shit!" Matt guffawed, fake amped-up but also not, nevertheless interested in the idea of a drinking game. All of the friends seemed to be interested in fact, wondering if the guy could actually pull it off. Well, everyone except a certain nerd.

 

From the couch, Chris spoke up. "Is that really a good idea?" He mused aloud. "You're totally gonna puke, bro."

 

"Relax, Chr...Chartley, heh." Josh placated, but he wobbled somewhere on his way over to make his point and this did not inspire confidence. "I'll be fine. Liquor before beer, m'in the clear, dude."

 

Chris wasn't put at ease by the bullshit saying. Still, he attempted taking the easy way out: he joked.

 

"I don't think that policy stands when you can't stand and you've had more to drink than you have blood in your body."

 

"Oh, I'm Chris and I like to point out science things." Josh imitated, twirling his finger in a circular motion that turned into more of a scribble. He was too inebriated to come up with something more clever to say.

 

"I don't sound like that, dude."

 

"Let's just see if he can do it." Emily added unhelpfully, and Chris resigned himself to the fact that this was going to happen regardless of logic. Logic didn't exist at parties, he had come to understand. All of the ones Josh brought him to have taught him that much.

 

"Wait, somebody get a bag in case he does throw up," Mike said in afterthought, laughing at the idea.

 

Despite the odds being incredibly against him, Josh was disgustingly confident in himself: "Not gonna happen, bro."

 

Of course, Sam ended up grabbing one anyway. Chris, not looking to be responsible for Josh's alcohol poisoning, pulled out his phone to scroll Facebook.

 

"Who's timing?" Matt asked, cracking open the beer bottle and handing it to Josh. 

 

"Chris, you already have your phone out." Jess pointed out. "Why don't you keep time?"

 

Turns out Chris was going to be responsible for Josh's alcohol poisoning. Jess was giving him a playful look, purposefully pulling him back into the party. Chris knew there wasn't any room for argument against her steel resolve, so he launched his phone's timer reluctantly, lifting his eyes to the stupidity he was about to witness. 

 

While Josh did in fact have a strange metabolism considering his smaller than average size, it wasn't fast enough for this absurd rate of consumption. Or so Chris thought.

 

The second Chris started the timer. chants of "chug, chug, chug" started with it. Josh was on the bottle like it was his first drink of the night, turning it completely upside down and gulping like a champ. Hoots and hollers of encouragement sprouted up around him as the beer effortlessly slid down his throat. Meanwhile, Mike just stared in awe, having very sudden second thoughts about this bet.

 

Chris shook his head with a laugh but otherwise stayed quiet amongst the commotion around him.

 

Josh, on the other hand, was living. He'd stopped feeling the sensation of carbonation tickling his throat about three seconds in, and he'd already breached the point of no return when it came to swallowing, so there were no issue in that department of the whole ordeal. The cheering around him helped boost his morale, but it wasn't like he really needed it to keep on going.

 

He was late to realize the room was spinning, but he was so drunk that everything felt second nature, like he was just going along for the ride of whatever his body wanted to do, removed and distant. It felt amazing. Freeing, really. In fact, he was so far gone that it took him a few solid seconds in order to realize there wasn't anything left in the bottle to chug. Suddenly, he ripped the bottle from his lips, raising it high in the air and the uproar of celebratory voices droned out as his ears rang. 

 

"Looks like you owe Josh twenty bucks." Emily sassed Mike, whose shoulders slumped while his face was stuck between a look of befuddlement and respectful amazement. 

 

"Wait, what was the time?" Ashley asked curiously, looking over to who had the answer.

 

Looking down all at once, Josh's neck releasing and his head cluttering so his chin met his chest, he noticed Chris studying his phone. He stumbled over enthusiastically and fell to his knees around him, crowding to look at his time. He blinked dizzily, trying to make it out on the screen, having to stabilize himself on Chris' thigh, so drunk that the implication behind the touch was completely lost and it felt something like normal.

 

"Twenty-four seconds." And that made Josh look up into the brilliant blue eyes, shining in an emotion that looked sort of impressed and somewhat congratulatory but mostly it just said you're such a fucking idiot. And Josh laughed. And Chris smiled, clapping him on the shoulder with his free hand. 

 

That was the moment Josh noticed the beer bottle was still in his hand, and he stopped laughing for a minute, bringing the bottle up between them senselessly, staring. Then, with a sideways grin, he placed the lip of the bottle to the center of Chris' chest and looked up at him again.

 

"You alright there?" Chris questioned, and Josh didn't know why he would have to be questioned because he was feeling just fine. His friend didn't look too sure though, and Chris paused briefly before spilling out a somewhat apologetic phrase that was almost musical because it made the brunette's joints weak. He said: "Uh, as much as I love you, man," and he could have stopped right there but the real object behind it all was, "I _really_ don't wanna get puked on again."

 

And, naturally, that last bit brought everything back into perspective. Still, Josh craved the ability to make a new one, to shift lenses in his periscope so that he might be able to make everything he's ever wanted appear right there in front of his eyes. Maybe that was possible, maybe not, but it felt nice to think about.

 

"Shh. . ." Josh smiled like he was in on a joke no one else got, all teeth and pursed lips. He twisted the bottle still held against his friend slightly, staring from his blue eyes to the wide bridge of his nose all the way down to pink lips of which he never let himself think about for reasons he couldn't really remember right now. Josh leaned in like he was telling a secret, and maybe he was. Chris seemed confused, brows crinkling in that way they do when he's trying to figure something out, all cute and quizzical. It felt to Josh in that moment, looking up at this man, like his chest was being inflated with air and any moment he could become buoyant. He stayed on the ground, though, not letting himself get lifted into the air. The booze weighed him down, too, he supposed, and made everything feel like a whirlwind. 

 

One thing stuck out, though: the beer bottle, pointed at a short-haired blonde this time and Josh thought maybe the universe was telling him something. It was almost as if a puzzle piece had fallen into place, and, with his eyes crinkling from another inside joke, Josh slurred, real quiet so no one eye would hear:

 

"Never liked seven minutes in heaven."

 

Then, in a moment of pure impulse, pure drive to do whatever the fuck he wanted, regardless of the consequences, he finally did it. 

 

Josh kissed him.

 

And it was wonderful, and it was short, and it felt like it could have lasted days if he wanted it to, if circumstance would allow for them to be stuck together for that long. Chris stiffened, and Josh felt his body go as stiff as he could in response. He was feeling at one with the other boy for the first time since, maybe, ever.

 

But, really, that stiffness is what pushed him back into place, back to sitting on his knees like it never happened aside from dead silence and closed eyes. Josh tingled all over, and he would never watch another movie again if it meant he could stay in this place forever, away from all the awful thoughts about himself and the ones he cherishes that haunt him on his worst days. Right now, he just enjoyed the feeling.

 

When Josh finally opened his eyes, Chris' were so lidded and downcast that it looked like they were closed, almost as if he was savoring the taste of Josh's lips the same way Josh was savoring his and they stayed that way for a few more blissful moments. It was everything Josh could have ever hoped for, everything he had ever fantasized or dreamed about. It was perfect. Then Chris finally looked up at him and any warm fuzzy feelings were gone. 

 

Those crystal blue eyes were full of accusation and it smacked Josh in the face. With a harsh drop, like a ride in an amusement park, he was brought back into the real world. He was suddenly flushed with panic.

 

All at once, he was aware of the people around them, staring. He tried to act natural, unaware of how absurd he was to keep up that pretense. It was like dumping him with ice cold water and expecting him not to gasp and shiver. And then there was Chris. Sweet, protective, gorgeous Chris. A part of Josh was expecting him to jump up and save him just like he always did when things got bad or he did something idiotic and unfavorable. Needless to say, this would not be the case. Not this time.

 

Horrified, Josh watched Chris' eyes narrow further and further until they weren't looking at him anymore, but trailing the ground as he deftly got up from his seat and stormed away, shaking his head and furrowing his brow. Josh's gaze traced him until he was out of sight, and flinched at the loud slam of the front door moments later. 

 

He started hearing a ringing in his ears again, and it wasn't nearly as pleasant this time. Grasping the seat of the couch, Josh felt, more than in his entire life, numb. That was, until he spotted the person to his right, with auburn hair spilling over her face as her head bowed and her lips pouted. Of course, she avoided his gaze, infuriatingly stock-still and defenseless, because Ashley was never the one to retaliate and Josh was never anything other than the monster. Her eyes, fixed at her lap, were blank and unseeing. She looked confused and hurt. Cold remorse washed over Josh in a huge, drowning wave, greater than any guilty feeling he's ever had for Ashley before. 

 

He scrambled to his feet, unable to take it, the alcohol making everything tilt again and then there was still silence, eyes watching him. The reality of the situation was becoming starker as the seconds ticked by, all of it too much too fast, difficult for him to process with his alcohol-addled brain. He looked around helplessly, meeting Jess' eyes which were shocked, Emily's which were calculating, Matt's which were defensive, and Mike's and he looked away before he could read those ones, afraid of what might be lying in them, afraid of the judgement he knew would be there. Finally, he looked to Hannah's, which were sympathetic yet astonished at his brevity. He huffed humorlessly, wordless, trying to figure out what to do instead of just standing around and scanning the room like an idiot.

 

He stopped himself before the words it was just a joke could pass his lips, the same ones that had connected with his best friend's moments ago right in front of all of their friends. Even if it had been a joke, nobody in their right mind would have thought it was funny, not with everyone knowing what was going on between Chris and Ashley, not with what a dick move this was. Not with everyone reeling in revelation as to what this must mean. Not with the terrible awkwardness laying over the situation like a thick blanket.

 

Finally, the tension became too much, too real. Josh was too bared, and his fear and self-consciousness ruled over every last thought until he was stumbling away, running from a situation he never wanted to face.

 

One moment Josh was sloshing down the hall, vision blurring until it was all one ugly color, and the next he was staring at bright linoleum and tile, blinking the tears out of his eyes fiercely. He was crumpled on his bathroom floor in a tight, balled up fashion, looking like he could grow spikes any minute now. He was completely alone, the door locked behind him. His mind was too foggy to make sense of most of it, but everything he could make sense of made him want to scream and do something Chris always told him was selfish and reckless so he promised him he'd stop. He's relapsed before, though, and he was coming close to that deep unrelenting precipice, but frankly didn't have the energy or brain power to scout for something sharp or painful. For now he just sat and told himself not to cry so no one would hear him.

 

One tear dropped in noncompliance just as a knock resounded from the locked door. Josh startled, pulling into himself further and this time maybe he did actually sprout spikes. He wiped his eyes, realizing he didn't want anyone to see him right now. 

 

"Go 'way!" After speaking, Josh bit his lip in regret. He wanted to make his voice sound clear and strong but it just came out reedy and tearful. He sounded absolutely fucking pitiful. 

 

"It's Hannah." Came a voice, kind but with a hard edge. She knocked again, insistently seeking entrance. She would enter by force, if necessary. Leaving was not an option. Hannah knew better than to leave her brother alone at a time like this.

 

She was a lot of things, but stupid wasn't one of them.

 

It wasn't a secret that the past few years haven't really been the easiest on him. Mom and Dad like to think that the girls aren't aware of the worst of it, and maybe that's true, in a way. Josh doesn't ever like to open up and the girls don't really pry about it. Regardless, Hannah definitely knew enough about the past few hospital visits to be extra cautious, and right now she needed to make sure he wasn't going to do something reckless.

 

"Josh, come on. Open up."

 

"Lemme 'lone!" was his muffled reply.

 

Hannah sighed, pulling a bobby pin from her hair and about to go to her knees in front of the doorknob but the sound of footsteps coming from down the hall stopped her.

 

"No dice?" Sam asked as she approached, fidgeting with her friendship bracelet, eyebrows titled in sympathy.

 

Hannah just shook her head, and rested it in her hands. 

 

Earlier, her and Sam told everyone to go home. Luckily, Matt had a minivan and he was nice enough to pile a bunch of drunk and high teenagers into it, all left reeling from an uncomfortable situation that no one really knew how to talk through. As they figured out the car situation out, Hannah had taken that as her cue to come to her brother's rescue, and Sam decided to tag along. Now, they just stood in front of the door, not sure what to do with their hands or with this card they'd been dealt. Fearful that Josh was plunging himself into an episode, though, they persisted. 

 

Sam reached out with a shaking hand and knocked. When there was no response, she spoke up, and her voice was surprisingly steely.

 

"Josh, it's Sam."

 

There was a long, heavy pause. "Sam?"

 

Hannah's mouth opened a little in surprise, crossing her arms. Sam had the barest hint of a smile.  

 

"Yeah, hon. Can I come in?"

 

After a few seconds, the sound of a lock turning could be heard from the other side of the bathroom door. Hannah watched as Sam slipped in through a thin crack in the door way. The door shut hard behind her and locked again haphazardly, very clearly by Josh, keeping out anyone else but the blonde girl who knew more about this kind of thing than anyone else could ever try to, even Han. She tried not to be offended. It made sense for Josh not to want his little sister to see him in such a state of vulnerability.

 

When Sam walked in, Josh had his head bowed and his eyes closed. The tip of his nose was red and his under eyes were puffy and the girl was struck with the realization that this is exactly how Josh must have seen her that night in the closet. She was relieved to know that, while Josh might think of himself as pathetic and gross, that's not what Sam saw at all. She saw someone who was trying to live a life of which every force around him screamed he never could, that he should just push his feelings down and hide them from everyone. She saw someone who was attempting to live that life anyway. She saw progress. She wanted to tell him all of this but, instead, she did what he would do. She did what he did for her.

 

Sam sighed and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into her chest. He succumbed to her embrace, masculinity be damned, hiding his face in her shoulder and wobbling unsteadily. Sam gripped him harder and adjusted her stance so they wouldn't tip over. She could feel tears seep into her shirt, and there was a tightness in his body. She could tell he was holding the it back. This thought was confirmed when he gasped against her harshly, a sharp and painful sound. Sam knew he was afraid to just let it out but she didn't point it out. In fact, Sam decided it was best to let him keep this small semblance of pride among all of the humiliation he must be feeling. She just let him handle it how he needed to. 

 

"So, a bathroom," She muttered into his hair, voice calm. "That's one step up from a closet."

 

Josh used the opportunity she gave him to hide his sob in a laugh, releasing some of the tension from his shoulders palpably. She rubbed his back, and each moment they spent like brought more and more deja-vu to the forefront of her brain.  

 

"I love him." Josh cried, and the realization dawned on him that this was the first time he'd ever said it out loud. He shook his head against her, ashamed, and moaned forlornly: "I'm in love with him, Sam."

 

Sam's brows knitted, regretful. "I know." She whispered, setting her chin atop his head in a motherly way.

 

Josh shook against her and she held him tight.

 

Sam's always been protective of her friends and Josh was no exception. She just wished there was something more she could say, something that would fix everything and make him okay again but it was never going to be that easy. She remembered all the times he'd been a rock for her when things got really rough. In fact, he was pretty much the only person she could show real vulnerability in front of. When she needed him, he was there. Now it was time to return the favor. 

 

"'M such a fucking idiot." Josh wept. Sam squeezed him tighter at that, trying to wring the bad thoughts out of him like that would work to make him stop feeling so terrible. "Fuck, I ruined everything and now he hates me."

 

"Chris doesn't hate you." She promised.

 

"He should." Josh sniffled. Sam was coming to learn Josh had a penchant for bringing himself down, and watching him tailspin so quickly made her fear what kind of conclusions he brings himself to when he's alone with no one to mediate, or what conclusions he's already made. "After what I did to him tonight. . . and what I've done, god . . . He should fucking hate me."

 

"You were drunk, Josh." She reassured. "You're still drunk. So you weren't being stupid, you just lost control of yourself. It's understandable."

 

At that, the boy reared back, breaking away from Sam's hold. 

 

"Understandable?" He laughed without any humor, red-rimmed eyes incredulous. Instead of sadness, a new emotion lit up in his body. It was fury, yet the fire wasn't directed at her. All of the sudden he seemed much more clearheaded. "Understandable, right . . . Let's see:  I'm a . . . a fag who's hot for his best friend but I-I got him date some girl and then, huh, then I forced him to make out with me in front of all of our friends i-including that girl.  _Nothing_ about that is fucking _understandable_ , Sam!"

 

Sam sat in silence long enough for Josh to deflate, and soon he was crouched back into himself, glazed, sorrowful eyes back on the floor. She licked her lips, hesitant. 

 

"You know, one of my oldest friends taught me not to feel stupid for expressing my feelings no matter how I do it." She told him pointedly.

 

He looked up at her, eyes glinting wetly and a typical look on his face. "Your friend sounds like a real tool-bag." He slurred dryly.

 

"He is." Sam laughed, and Josh huffed a little, wiping his eyes bashfully. "But he also got me through a really rough patch in my life, and taught me to be okay with a big part of who I am."

 

A pang of something unpleasant let loose inside Josh'd chest, and his lips twisted as he looked away completely. It hurt to hear it, mostly because she was right and she had a good point. Sam didn't let him get too far before a hand reached for his cheek, turning him back to face her. He watched the other hand following suit and closing around his face so he had no choice but to look her in the eyes, sorrowful.

 

"Josh." Sam leveled with him. "I understand you being upset about Chris. It sucks and I'm sorry, I really am. I know it hurts more than anything, so you have every right to be heartbroken. But," She paused, "I seriously can't let you keep doing this."

 

She took a breath to brace herself, the look in her eyes especially pointed.

 

"I won't let you keep hating yourself for being gay."

 

Josh winced, the bluntness of her statements too much to bear after such an emotional night. His heart was twinging hard in his chest, staring into the only pair of green eyes he could have this kind of a conversation with. However, Sam was determined to make him listen.

 

"I won't let you do it. Not after everything that's happened between us. I know . . . I know that you're afraid people won't accept you, and you're scared. I get it, okay? You know I get it. But, listen . . . I accept you. And our friends accepted me. What makes you think it's gonna be any different with you?" 

 

He didn't have an answer. Apparently, Sam was expecting that.

 

"So, Josh: please stop being so broken up about something that makes you one of my heroes," And here her voice became a little brittle, resisting her emotions. She took a breath to calm herself, blinking and locking eyes with the older boy. "Because it hurts me to see how much it hurts you."

 

And, at this, he was fully compromised. Josh's face tore in half and the thick tears he'd been trying to hold back spilled over his cheeks.

 

Sam smiled, rubbing his shoulder with one hand, cupping his cheek with the other. "Okay?"

 

And that was how Sam saved him. Not all at once, and definitely not that easily, but hers was the voice that he kept coming back to every time it would get really bad. 

 

After a few more minutes of coaxing, Sam led Josh out of the bathroom and into his bedroom, with a quick stop in the hallway for Hannah to give her brother an impromptu hug. He was still aching, still on the verge of something not pretty, but he felt more at ease knowing that two of his girls were on his side.

 

Hannah got him some saltines to soak up the alcohol and a garbage bag just in case. She laid these items next to his bed. After a while of the two girls watching over him like hawks, asking him short questions and telling him sweet little anecdotes, he finally told them he was tired and that they should leave.

 

"Are you gonna do something dumb if I do?" Hannah said densely, pulling a face and trying to make the statement as light as possible even though it was anything but. Josh was laying sideways on his unmade bed, staring at the crackers she left him. 

 

"I'm . . . too shitfaced to open my phone, much less. . ." Josh trailed off, eyes going a little dim before he pacified her with a "I'll be fine."

 

Hannah adjusted her glasses, an unamused expression on her face. After a long pause, she finally conceded, going to his door and stopping there for a second. "Hey." She called.

 

He looked back at her.

 

"I love you, you jerk off."

 

He smiled through the noise.

 

"Love you, too, Bananah."

 

Then she was gone, and Sam after, giving him a surreptitious grin and a bit of a head wobble and he smiled in her direction until he was once again alone with his thoughts. He ran a hand through his hair. His eyes and body were exhausted and his heart was heavy. The light from his bedside lamp bathed him in yellow, and he shut his eyes against the glare.

 

Now that there was nothing to distract him, he couldn't help himself from thinking about the first domino piece that had laid everything flat in the most shitty way imaginable. How could he have let himself be so stupid, so goddamn impulsive? There were lines he was never suppose to cross, and he crossed them all in one fell swoop and now Chris was never gonna talk to him again.

 

_Chris_. 

 

A tiny, tiny part of Josh had always hoped and dreamed that maybe Chris felt the same way, just a little, that they could learn to be boyfriends instead of best friends. What a fucking pipe dream was that? No matter how many times he tried to squash it down by telling himself all the reasons it was implausible, or wrong, or just pathetic, the idea still sprang up in his thoughts among all the awful rest of it, swimming in a shit storm and making him see a silver lining in all the motherfucking clouds.

 

After tonight, though, there was no longer that lingering hope. He was sick to his stomach, and not just from the alcohol. He felt truly hollowed out, and not even a single fantasy remained. Nothing would ever be like it was before, because now he knew for certain that there isn't any way for him and Chris to be together. It was a punch to the gut to finally understand how screwed he was from this, how screwed he'd made everything. Not only that, but he'd made a fool of himself in front of everyone and no doubt humiliated the love of his life, all on a whim. Now his best friend was gone, and he was truly and ultimately alone.

 

He buried his face in his grey pillows, the cool of the fabric a relief against the crying-sore and warmed flesh of his cheeks and eyes. He didn't have the energy left to move, or wallow, or even cry. All he could do was succumb to himself, his misery. It was inevitable. 

 

Before he could reach the point of no return, to find that spot where nothing could reach him and stay there, there was a knock at the door. His head sprang up, somewhat annoyed, mostly just exhausted. Hannah just wouldn't give it a rest, it seemed.

 

"Thirty seconds!" Josh called, voice inflected to sound sort of amazed. "Like, what can I do in thirty seconds, Han?"

 

He heard the door open without his invitation while he complained, but there weren't any footsteps coming towards him to fret. The moment was strangely still, and it felt off-kilter, dreamlike, like a multitude a moments from tonight. Josh stood his ground and kept quiet, rubbing his tired eyes until, eventually, the silence was broken.

 

"Uh, you can drink a whole beer in thirty seconds."

 

Josh froze. He felt his breath stop for a moment. The voice sounded way too familiar, and he was immediately paranoid his brain was making it up.

 

"Which is ill-advised, by the way. I mean, I hear it can make people puke." A pause, brief but filled with tension. "And make others kiss their best bro."

 

Anxiety washed over him in a drowning wave, making his joints feel weak and his body feel like it was buzzing. He didn't want to do this now. He wasn't even close to ready, or close to sober enough to handle this pressing situation. More than anything, though, he didn't want to turn around and find out that this situation wasn't even happening to begin with. It'd still never gotten that bad, but nothing felt worse than the fear that tonight might have broken something irreparable in his already corrupted brain, turned him into what he'd always dreaded.

_What if none of this night even happened at all?_

 

The suspense was killing him. Much like a bandaid, Josh summoned up the brave to turn around and face it, twisting himself onto his back and pushing himself up.

 

And there he was, clear as day, not imaginary or invisible or covered in blood like one of his nightmares. Just there, worse for wear and gloomy, but still there. Still Chris.

 

_Wishful thinking._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review my dudes. You're awesome for reading, but I would love encouragement so I can finish this. WE'RE SO CLOSE.
> 
> Thanks very very much for reading.
> 
> you can yell at my on tumblr [right here](https://intrepidem.tumblr.com/)


	3. Bedroom

 

 

 

Chris was standing in the doorway, and Josh looked him up and down like he couldn't believe he had just materialized in front of him, still terribly doubtful of his own perception. This couldn't possibly be the same guy he'd just humiliated an hour ago. Josh expected fury, abject coldness on his face and a fire in his eyes, or simply total distance, avoidance, apathy; not this presentation. He looked almost _normal._ Not necessarily casual, but not as far from it as would make the most sense.

Chris' lips were pulled to one side of his face and his arms gestured openly, as if it to say ' _you got anything you wanna tell me_?'

And what a fucking loaded question that was.

For a while, Josh couldn't think of a single thing to say, even though Chris was clearly waiting for him to just open his mouth and say _something,_ seeming that the blonde at least deserved an attempt at an explanation for what the hell happened between them tonight. Right now, there was nothing he could think of to say. 

Of course, this isn't the first time they've been in a conversation rut. This wasn't the first awkward silence they've ever shared in respect to Josh's very selective muteness. When Josh was in one of his fugue states or having an off day, Chris would sometimes challenged him, waiting and waiting without a word until the Washington kid had no choice but to break the tension and speak his mind. Sometimes Josh never did, stubborn as all hell, scared to make a move for whatever ugly consequence his brain told him would be the end of the world that day. For those times, Chris would eventually just give in with a calm voice and a lighthearted air.

 It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out this wasn't gonna be one of those times. 

Josh swallowed. Time to give it up and speak, ugly consequences rearing their heads but what the fuck else did he have to lose, really?

"Why'd you come back?" He choked out.

That didn't seem to be what Chris was expecting to come out of Josh Washington's head, and he took a second to decide on an answer. "Full disclosure?" He raised a brow, cocking his head and focusing unusually hard on his shoes. "Ashley convinced me." 

At first, Josh thought he misheard, but, taking one look at the blonde's face, he realized he heard him right. Then his brain short-circuited. He blinked, circumspect, trying to wrap his head around this and it seemed his mouth was leagues ahead of his brain this time when he blurted out a short: "What?"

Chris started walking in to Josh's room kind of like it was a war zone, one step at a time, like he was afraid a landmine would go off and kill them both at any misstep. "Yeah, she called and told me I needed to come back. That you and I should have a conversation about this."

Another version of himself would have come back with a faux-naive 'about what?' and he would grin a stupid grin but that version of Josh was left in the dust the minute everything starting going down the shitter emotionally. Currently, his mind was far too busy reeling as he absorbed this new information. After everything he put her through, Ashley should have been the last person to be doling out favors for him. 

In another life, maybe one where Josh wasn't as toxic and vindictive, and didn't poison everything he touched, he thinks him and Ashley could be really good friends. Unfortunately, his jealous and self-destructive nature had ruined their potential for a relationship before it could even start, not to mention he seriously hindered Chris' chances. Despite the dark and often malicious thoughts about them that run through his head late at night or when he can't focus on anything other than how much it hurts, he had never really wanted that for them. He never meant to make it such a mess. Chris was his best friend, and Ashley was a really great girl. They deserved better than him.

Another achingly long silence passed before Josh registered it must be his turn to speak. The weighted air made him realize he was expected to address the elephant in the room. He didn't want to, though. He just wanted things to be back to normal with them, for his mistakes to be erased and for Chris to go back to being blissfully unaware of the kind of person he really was.

That clearly wasn't an option. It was time to start working backwards instead.

"Hey, about the, uh . . ." Josh immediately trailed off, face ablaze with heat and he shoved his gaze to the grey comforter he was twirling around in his hands. "I, uh, don't know why I did that." Josh finally chose this tactic, and yeah, he was hiding again, but what the hell else was he supposed to do when he saw the opportunity to salvage this friendship after he thought it was ruined forever? "I'm really sorry, man. I was . . . I'm jus' so drunk and it didn't mean anything, I mean, I'm not—"

"Save it." 

The tone of Chris' voice stopped him dead in his tracks. His head snapped up to look at the blonde's face.

Josh took him, Chris with a stuck out hand in order to halt him. Chris' expression was hard, piqued, his blue gaze traveling onto the Halloween movie poster hanging on his wall and then about, anywhere but on the person he was talking to. He had his brows knitted, in full rant-mode. 

"Seriously, stop doing that shit. Stop trying to shift the attention and change the subject like you always do, fuck, I fucking _hate_ it when you do that!" 

It was at that moment that their eyes met for the first time since Chris walked into his room, brilliant blue meeting hazy green. It was a shock to the brunette's system. He might have even flinched, the sudden burst of clarity in addition to the power behind his best friends words striking up some fear.

Chris seemed to realize the effect he was having because his voice dropped off, less harsh.

"I know, okay?" Chris told him. He scrubbed a hand down his face tiredly. He all of the sudden looked a lot older than his seventeen years. "I know."

 "Know what?" he blurted, unable to come up with something more substantial to say. His voice felt painful and raw, more quiet than usual even for a night like this.

Now, Josh would be lying to himself if he didn't have the urge to jump out of his skin, feeling the flight instinct to scout for his best exit and make a mad dash. He stayed, though, stock-still, and waited for his doom like a deer in headlights. Like an idiot.

Chris gave him a look. "I know you're gay, Josh." Chris announced impatiently, eyes wide, hands thrown up in surrender, looking like he was expertly proving a point just as much as he was at a complete loss for how to say it.  "I've known for a while now, alright?"

Now, that part took him for a loop and Josh sat there absolutely dumbstruck until, after a while, "Why didn't you say anything?" He spluttered, loud and belligerent, face twisting more from the utter incredulity than through actual malcontent.

Chris pulled an expression of abject disbelief, head turned and brows raised.

 "Funny, I think I could ask you the same question." 

Josh opened his mouth, but Chris wasn't finished.

"I mean, I didn't realize it was up to me to do the talking." He continued, spurred on my his own feelings on the matter. "I didn't realize I was the one who had to come out as knowing you're gay. I just didn't think I was the owner of that piece of information, so excuse me for not telling you sooner. I'm so sorry. Jesus, Josh." He scrubbed a hand over his face, taking a seat on the chair at his desk, adjacent to the bed.

Josh's mouth made a tight line. While he had a point, he couldn't focus on it. There was something more pressing and real that they had to cover before moving on, something that had been gnawing on Josh for years. After a few seconds, he decided to ask the question that was weighing on him, voice sounding timid regardless of his intent.

"So you're not. . . upset?" 

Chris lowered his hands and stared at his friend blankly. "What do you mean?"

"That I'm. . . you know . . ."

"That you're gay?"

Josh winced every time he heard it out loud, and this did not go unnoticed by the blonde. He'll cross that bridge when he gets to it. For right now, there's a score he needed to settle.

"Yeah, I'm upset." Chris' face took on a fixed quality, eyebrows high in the air. "I'm upset because, for some reason, you never told me. Like, what is that all about? And then all this shit tonight."

Josh blanched, taking in his best friend's demeanor. He seemed really offended and really hurt. This wasn't the reaction Josh was expecting at all. Chris was just looking at him with sad puppy dog eyes and Josh didn't know what to say, too wrapped up in how nothing was making sense and it didn't feel real. Instead of replying, he just stared down at his lap, senseless. 

"I mean, I'm your best friend, bro. We've known each other since elementary school. Don't you trust me enough to tell me stuff like that? Why did I have to figure it out for myself?" Then he was still again, waiting for a reply, eyes boring into the brunette until it was on the brink of too much to take. "Are you gonna say anything?" Chris watched him expectantly, mouth pulled into a tight line. He was slowly growing more impatient as the seconds ticked by and there was still not a semblance of a response. 

"I just . . . I guess I just thought that you'd—" Josh trailed off again, eyes back to the floor.

"That I'd what—leave?"

At Josh's sinking expression, Chris' brain restarts, and it's clear on his face.

"Wait, you actually thought I'd stop being your friend if I knew?" Now he looked even more offended, one hand actually going to his chest in a wounded gesture. "Shit, Josh, give me a little credit. How long have you known me, man? Like, for real, what kind of person do you think I am?"

"I don't know!" Josh defended, finally caught up with him, directly on the heels of Chris' assertion. "I don't know. I just get so fucked up and-and I don't know. I don't know, okay? I don't know!" As he went on, his voice became more and more distressed, nearly hysterical, more tears threatening to spill over and embarrass him even further.

"Okay," Chris placated, voice calm and collected. "Okay, it's okay." 

 

"I'm sorry," Josh whispered. "I wanted to tell you. I swear, so many times I came real fucking close but I . . . couldn't because I—"

 

Josh stopped. He realized how much of a pussy he sounded like and he couldn't continue with this train of thought for fear of revealing too much.

Chris didn't want that, though. "You can say it, dude." He assured.

_Because I didn't want to lose you._

 

"Because I'm ashamed." Josh said instead, and it wasn't a lie. If six years, give or take, of being in the closet hadn't made that clear, this whole display certainly did.

 

They still haven't talked about the kiss, and that filled him with dread but right now he was starting to lose touch with the feeling of the soft comforter against his fingertips. This bizzaro world he's been thrust into was starting to be too much for his inebriated brain to comprehend and now he's starting to feel outside of himself, like he's watching this happen instead of participating in it.

 

"You shouldn't have to be." He heard Chris say quietly, somewhere in the distance. "About something like that, you know. You shouldn't be."

After a while of unresponsiveness from him, he heard Chris sigh.

 

"Here," A large bottle of Dasani was tossed onto Josh's lap. "You need some fluids."

 

Josh grabbed the bottle deftly, studying it so he doesn't have to look up and at the other boy. "I can take care of myself, Cochise." Josh muttered, picking at the label.

 

"Well, yeah, you can, but you don't." Chris said it with an almost melodic intonation. "Besides, Han told me to force it down your throat if you refused. She means business."

 

"That she does." Josh replied, and a little bit of his normal self had just started to shine through before it was once again smothered by the smokescreen of shame. "So, uh . . . how much does Ashley want to kick me in the balls?"

 

Chris huffed a little, a sad excuse for laughter when it really wasn't all that funny. "You know she's not like that." He said. "And you know she's the one who got me to come here."

 

"Yeah, that's what I'm not getting." Josh said, shaking his head. "I've been such a dick to her, so why would she, especially after. . ." Josh ducked. "You know, I just don't get it."

"'Cause she's a good person." Chris sighed. "She's kind and empathetic. And she cares about people. Like me. And you."

 

Those words hung in the air for a while, Josh not knowing how to take them.

 

"How long?" Asked Chris, like he'd been working up the nerve to say it because it pushed out of him like a gust of air, voice breathy and his chest deflating obviously.

 

Even in his state of insobriety, Josh still felt apprehensive at the sudden change of tone in the room. His eyes suddenly became unseeing, directed towards Chris' feet and his voice was barely above a whisper. "What do you mean?" 

  

Chris wasn't about to play at this anymore, he would come to learn. It seems the blonde had decided before even turning his car around and making his way back here that he would be as direct as possible in the face of Josh's predicted misdirection.

"How long have you had feelings for me?"

 

Josh became still, deciding whether or not it was better to lie than embarrass himself even more. At this point, however, what did he really have to lose? "The sixth grade is when I starting getting the idea that maybe . . . you know, I might be playing for the other team. And you . . . were just always there . . ." He refused to look up, instead staring intently at the water bottle in his hands as heat rose on his cheeks. "I don't know. Wrong place, wrong time for you, I guess. I never even admitted it to myself until, well, you remember Mike's party a couple years ago? When Em came with us? And me and Sammy had to do the whole seven minutes in heaven thing?"

 

Chris, who had been taking in all of this information, tried to seem back to normal and scrunched up his nose reminiscence. "Um, maybe? I don't know, I was probably drunk."

 

"Well, we were all drunk, Cochise, that's what made it a party," Josh retorted, refreshed by Chris' attempt of making this as not-weird as possible. Of course, it was still weird, but what else do you expect when you're confessing your undying love to your straight BFF? "Anyway, we pretty much confessed our undying love for penis and vagina respectively that night to each other. Little did I know Sam would get the brave to tell everyone else in our group that she's gay and show me the fuck up." He laughed dryly at the end there, just a little. "Sorry, by the way."

"For what?" Chris inquired. 

"For making you the object of my gay attraction for like, 6 plus years."

 

Strangely, this makes Chris laugh, a surprised bark of a sound. It breaks the tension they've built up a little bit.

 

 "Yeah, that wasn't very 'no-homo' of you, bro." He jokes, a little mirth in his eyes and Josh actually smiles, a sly thing. 

 

"Well, I'm about as homo as 'no-homo' gets, Cochise." He slid back into his old persona when he said this, relaxing into his pillows a bit. Chris just snorted and rolled his eyes.

 

"Yeah, you're a real . . ." Chris trails off. "I don't even know dude. I never thought I'd have to come up with gay jokes for you. I thought you'd stay in the closet forever."

 

"Uh, just give me like, seven more minutes and I'll be fine."

 

Chris laughed again and Josh finally laughs along with him. It was weird to joke about it so blatantly, right now, after everything that happened. Really weird, but kind of nice. For the first time in a long time, Josh felt lighter and not because of drugs or alcohol. Fuck, he would have done this a long time ago if he knew it was going to be this easy.

 

"But seriously, if I hated you for being gay like you were so afraid of, don't you think I would have left a long time ago?" Chris said, a bit more subdued. "I freaked tonight because I couldn't believe you were acting on something you hadn't even fucking _mentioned_ to me, all fucked up like this, drunk off your ass. That _sucks_ , Josh."

 

"I know." He whispered, regretful. "I really am sorry, Cochise."

 

"It's fine." He said, measured. "Just _talk_ to me, asshole. When something's going on in that big-ass head of yours, I wanna know. I worry, you know?"

 

Josh took that in for a second. "Thats kinda gay, bro."

 

"I'm being serious, Josh." Chris assured. "No joke." 

 

"Thanks." Josh let out, quick, just to get him to stop with this mushy shit. It was hard, especially right now, to recognize that his friend actually cared about him. "Really, like. Thanks."

 

Chris, the dork that he was, walked up to Josh's bed and sat down, holding out his fist for him to bump. "Still bros?" Chris smiled, cheesy and dumb but it made Josh smile and roll his eyes, bumping his fist with his own.

 

"Still bros." 

 

There's a brief moment of silence between them.

 

"You're not gonna kiss me again, are you?"

 

"Fuck you," Josh shoves him, but there's no real heat behind his words and they both laugh like idiots.

 

Josh Washington is impulsive. It's in his nature to make stupid choices and suffer the consequences therein. He can count only four spontaneous decisions he's made that have had any positive outcome whatsoever. Well, four and half, maybe. Chris would argue that kissing your best bro in front of all your friends while shit-faced is not the best way to come out, but _c'est la vie_ for the brunet boy who always lets his gut drive instead of his head.

 

Whether it was building a paper airplane, signing up for tutoring, coming out inside a closet to your baby sisters' buddy, or chatting up a redhead at the expense of your best friend, Josh Washington could argue that his choices have led to some pretty great stories, some pretty great people, and a lesson he'll never truly learn. 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading, and being patient with me. With finals and seasonal depression, I finally squeezed this out. Sorry if it wasn't the gay and happy ending you were hoping for, but I wanted to stay true to who I thought Chris was in this story. 
> 
> Again, thank you so much for reading! Comments are always deeply, deeply appreciated.
> 
> Come find me on tumblr for [rambles and memes](https://intrepidem.tumblr.com/)


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